


and me underneath

by llave



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: First Time Bottoming, Implied/Referenced Praise Kink, M/M, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29656737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llave/pseuds/llave
Summary: "You were such an affectionate person."
Relationships: Milano Collection A.T./Ishikari Taichi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Milano fucks him slowly, lazily, all the time in the world to roll _indulgent_ and _indifferent_ over in his head until he's made a perfect knot of them, somehow not enough to undo it before he comes. When he does it is into his hand, thick in the creases of his palm. Next to Milano prying off his condom he feels crude and soft, fucked virginal.

His shoulders arch strangely putting his head to Milano's chest, his toes jut out over the foot of the bed. He entertains it only for a minute before coming to lie level, face to face, he knows, once he turns his. In the end he finds Milano smiling - his eyes, more than his mouth. "That was good," Milano says, then, and as Taichi nods something below his throat flickers tight and slack and tight again. Milano's hand running the length of his arm, he thinks of two things: shining magazine centerfolds, breasts framed in carnation-red rope; practice together, the day before they'd left for America. Milano had allowed him one sloppy hold, too much give. Taichi took none of it. _Someone's trained you well_ , Milano had said, the lilt of it something furtively unsarcastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Back then, Taichi was humble and spoke politely. Do you remember that, Taichi?"


	2. Chapter 2

Uniquely, one last time, Taichi goes home for Christmas. He sends Milano pictures of his boots deep in snow, mist on the mountains, cloud-soft cake - this Milano answers with grease-mottled trophies of fast food. Cracking the seal of ice on his window as it arrives, he's mysteriously warm.

Before the new year Milano takes the train there only to join Taichi on the first one back in the morning. He brings shochu cradled in both hands like a bouquet, his fingers long and thin around the neck. "Have you missed it here?" he asks as he pours it out, a winning smile. "Pride of Ishikari."

Taichi can't quite drink quick enough to excuse his flush. "Pride of Milan," he scoffs - easiest to ring it absurd - but not loudly, and he pushes at Milano's arm too with little vigour. For better or worse, the diorama of his apartment seems made only of paper.

Milano laughs. "Of course, that too." Taichi's breath catches, a few beats delayed, reaching for the bottle. Three glasses in, he calls his pretext complete; he leans into Milano's shoulder, lays his legs over Milano's lap, one then the other. His ribs itch where he waits to twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most wrestlers don't go home to their families for christmas, and taichi didn't in 2008, but sometimes something gets stuck in your head. (and i only know that from his kayfabe-breaking blog so it's possible just to pretend that he did, he was a pretty sentimental guy then.)
> 
> he did make a post on new year's eve saying what made it a good year for him was how much of it he got to spend with milano though.


End file.
